


In the House of the Rising Bun

by imissmaeberry



Series: The House AU [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Background Sam/Jess - Freeform, Baker Dean, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Barista Sam, College Campus, Daddy Issues, Dean needs some lovin', Dean's a poetry nerd, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Balthazar/Castiel, Poet Castiel, Shocking I know, dean is oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 06:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2682395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imissmaeberry/pseuds/imissmaeberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester only has three rules concerning the cafe he and his brother Sam own, "House of the Rising Bun".</p><p>1. Any and all opportunities to make a pun will be taken.<br/>2. Free regular coffee with your student ID (If you want some of that fancy nonsense you gotta pay, sorry kids).<br/>3. Anyone and everyone is always welcome.</p><p>Between Dean running the shop full-time and Sam helping out whenever he isn't in class, there really isn't a whole lot of time for romance for either of them. But that all changes when they gain a new regular - some writer from London - who may or may not have the bluest eyes Dean's ever seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Story

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from "In the House of the Rising Sun" by the Animals.  
> Inspired by some chatting with Stardustedcas on tumblr:)  
> Also, whenever anyone mentions the "House", House with a capital H, he or she is referring to the cafe. (I thought it was clear but I wrote it so I figured I'd put that in there)  
> I'm also a huge fan of italics. You'll see.

“Hey hot stuff, can I get a vanilla latte with extra sugar and side of you?”

Sam groaned good-naturedly. Gabriel was nothing but a harmless flirt, plus he tipped well so who was Sam to complain _too_ much. “Yeah, sure Gabe, comin’ right up.”

“Hey. Gabe! What’s up, man?” Dean called, bringing a large tray of muffins from the kitchens and setting it down on the counter.

Gabriel shrugged as Sam handed him his coffee. “Not much, Dean-o. Just gettin’ ready to go pick my little brother up from the airport. He’s coming to stay with me for a little while. He needed to get out of the city, get some fresh air and whatnot.”

Dean nodded. “You wanna take him somethin? Muffin, cookie, brownie? People joke about airline food but that stuff is seriously foul.” Gabriel and Sam both chuckled. “Sure, go ahead and wrap something up for him. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

Dean nodded again and put two of the fresh, blueberry muffins into a brown bag and handed them to Gabriel before heading back into the kitchen. “Make sure he doesn’t pay for those, Sammy! Just the fancy-ass coffee everyone seems to like.

Sam sighed and rang up Gabriel’s latte before the older man left, throwing a wink over his shoulder at Sam. “See ya later, big boy!”

Groaning again, Sam called out, “Alright Dean, I have to go work on this paper I have due Monday – Alfie should be here any minute.” He unknotted the apron slung around his waist and stuffed it into the backpack he kept stored under the counter. “I’ll see you later, okay?”  
“Yeah, yeah, go get your paper done, bitch.”

“Save me some dinner, jerk.” And Sam was out the door, heading around the corner to the library.

 

* * *

 

Known affectionately by its patrons as ‘the House’, their café was located just across the street from KU’s campus and as such saw more than its fair share of both students and professors in desperate need of caffeine and something to eat. Even on the weekends, students came in to drink their free coffee and hang out.

Sam and Dean had taken over “House of the Rising Bun” a few years ago when their Uncle Bobby had decided to retire but hadn’t wanted to sell the shop for it to be taken over by, in Bobby’s words, “Know-nothin’ yuppies.” With Dean fresh out of business school, and Sam entering his first year of the anthropology path to pre-law, Bobby had decided there was no better time to end his reign with the café, and Dean leapt at the chance to prove himself.

And so here they were, four years later. Dean had started with hiring some new people, like the new chef Benny and the tech-savvy Charlie. Benny had brought a slew of new recipes with him that had been a hit with the students – and with Dean, whose pants had gotten slightly snug for a few months after the Cajun had been employed – and Charlie had set up the café’s website, complete with an online ordering system.

It had been Charlie who had demanded they invest in the technology to update the café. Things like espresso machines and steamers for milk and flavored syrups. Combined with the website and Benny’s cooking, the update had brought the House to an entirely new level of popular.

Which is why now as Dean and Benny stocked the shelves, the coolers, and the freezers in anticipation for Parents’ Weekend the café was buzzing, full of students chatting happily over coffees and teas and sweets.

Benny looked over his shoulder and nodded towards the counter where there was a man waiting, “Hey, brother, I dunno where Alfie is but there’s a guy standin’ at the counter. You might wanna head up there ‘fore you lose a customer.”

Dean looked up towards the counter, mumbling curses under his breath, most of which directed at Alfie. He wiped his flour-covered hands on his jeans as he made his way to the counter from the stock room and looked up at the man, a wide smile on his face, charm set to all phasers go. But the moment he looked up and looked into the man’s face, everything within him stuttered to a halt.

Seeing the man, whose dark hair was mussed in every single direction, dressed in a grey tweed blazer and a white button-up, an outfit which made the man’s eyes look so blue Dean thought he just might explode.

“H-Hi,” Dean said intelligently, suddenly feeling silly in his t-shirt which proclaimed, ‘Muffin to see here, folks’. “Sorry about the wait. The kid who usually works the counter pulled a Houdini or some shit. What can I get you, man?”

The man smiled, and damn it if Dean’s heart didn’t skip a beat. “It’s not a problem, it gave me plenty of time to peruse the menu. If I could just get a large black coffee that would be great.”

Dean nodded, ringing the order into the register. “For here or to go?” Because of Sam, ever the environmentalist, the shop had decided to use mugs for in store orders because it cut down on the use of the paper to-go cups which usually just ended up being thrown away.

“I’ll drink it here, if that’s all right. I see that you’re quite busy, but I’m sure I’ll be able to find somewhere to sit and work, right?” The man smiled at him again, handing Dean the bills.

“Yeah, we’re usually pretty busy, seein’ as we’re so close to campus. We give the kids free coffee, so they usually come in, buy a snack or something and hang for a while.” Dean handed the blue-eyed wonder his change, as well as one of the larger mugs from mug tree behind him. “We got a couple different brews over there. Free refills, so just let me know if you need anything alright?”

The well-dressed man, whom Dean assumed was a professor, nodded and took the mug. “Is there a Wi-Fi password I need to know or can I just get on? I need to send out a few e-mails.”

“Uh, yeah.” Dean chuckled a bit. “It’s chocolate chip wookie, all lowercase, and all one word.”

The maybe-professor squinted a bit and nodded. “Alright.” He turned away, making to fill his mug with their special house brew, before turning back and saying with a smirk on his face, “I like your shirt, by the way.”

“Th-thanks, man.” Dean turned away from the counter just as Samandriel, aka Alfie, walked back up to it from out of nowhere. “What the hell, Alfie? Where did you go?”

Samandriel heaved a sigh, “I told you and Benny both I needed to pee, so one of you would have to watch the counter. I see neither of you heard me.”

“Whatever, Alfie, just stay on the counter okay?” Dean glanced over his shoulder as he made his way back to the stock room, noting that the handsome man with the sex hair had settled himself in one of the chairs near the window. He mentally thanked Alfie’s ridiculously tiny bladder.

Later, after the man had left, Dean decided to tidy up a bit and grabbed a towel to wipe down some of the tables and booths where no one was sitting. Absently, Dean wondered what he had been working on – he’d been in the café for several hours before packing up his laptop and bringing his mug back to the counter so it could be washed.

Once Dean reached the table by the window, he noticed a napkin set atop it with something scribbled on it in neat handwriting. “Broken pencils are pointless – Castiel” Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at the pun, and he blushed a little, happy to have a name to put to the handsome face. He folded up the napkin and stuck it in his pocket before going back to wiping down the tables, listening to the radio and the chatter of the few students left in the café.

 

* * *

 

Early the next morning, maybe ten minutes after Dean had flipped the sign in the window to ‘OPEN’, Castiel walked in looking ready to kill someone. “Hey Cas,” Dean called. “Wanna cup of coffee I’m guessing?” Castiel nodded without saying anything as he made his way to the counter, handing Dean the bills as he handed Cas his mug. “You’re just in time, you know. Coffee’s just finished brewing. You want something to eat?”

Cas looked up at him blearily from where he stood near the coffee pots, tilting his head in a way Dean thought was too adorable for a grown-ass man. He shook his head and turned back to his coffee before settling in one of the booths along the wall, pulling his computer out of his briefcase and setting up shop.

Today Dean wore his favorite work shirt – this one read, ‘Cream Me Up, Biscotti.’ In an effort to make the cafe and its employees stand out, Dean had had shirts made, both for the employees (these shirts had their names on the back) and for purchase to bring in a little extra revenue. All the shirts were designed in KU’s colors, crimson and blue.

Leaving Benny in the back to take care of the rest of the set-up (most customers who came in this early usually just got their coffee to-go so they were okay with not being totally ready as long as coffee was brewed), Dean grabbed himself a mug and two biscuits that had just come out of the oven. He filled his own mug before sitting down in the booth with Castiel.

“You don’t mind, do you Cas? Here, you have the other one. You should eat something, you know. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Dean slid the second biscuit towards Castiel, not giving him a chance to refuse. “So, tell me, Cas,” Dean said, spreading apple butter onto one half of his biscuit, “we’ve had nearly everyone in town come in here at least once, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before yesterday. Are you a new professor up on campus or some shit like that?”

Cas shook his head, looking a little less bleary-eyed now that he’d gotten some caffeine. “No. I’ve just moved back to the States. I lived in London the last few years. I grew up in LA, though. I came here to focus on my writing.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love this town and I grew up here and all, but why would you-” Dean’s question was interrupted by the sound of a loud bang and Benny yelling a stream of curses. He leapt from the booth and ran back into the kitchen, calling “Hold that thought!” over his shoulder. Cas blinked at the baker’s retreating form before turning back to his computer.

Turns out Benny had burned the side of his arm while pulling a tray of bagels from the oven, and the bang had been the pan slamming onto the work table directly beside the oven (thankfully only a few of the bagels had gone flying in the commotion). Benny had already begun running his arm under cold water when Dean made his entrance, but it was decided Benny should probably go to the ER to make sure everything was all right.

Sighing, Dean pulled his phone out and dialed Charlie. She owed him a favor, and he was ready to cash it in. “You better be dying if you’re calling this early, Winchester.”

He laughed. “Hey, Charlie. Benny burned his arm in the oven and I was hopin’ you could come help me run the House today while I run the kitchens?” He heard her groan on the other end. “Come on, you owe me for keeping your ass from drunk-hacking the FBI last St. Paddy’s Day. Please, Charlie?”

“I hate you.” She groaned again and yawned. “I’ll be down in twenty.”

“You’re the best!” Hanging up, Dean removed everything that was ready from the ovens. After wrapping his arm, Benny had agreed to stay until Charlie arrived so that Dean wouldn’t have to run back and forth and worry about burning any food. He brought everything up to be put into the display cases and then set about getting ingredients together to make a few of his mom’s famous pies.

Most of the recipes Dean used at the café, at least for desserts, were his mother’s. A few were left from Bobby’s late wife, Karen, who was also responsible for all the breads and muffins and the biscuits were from Benny’s mother. After his own mom had passed, Sam and Dean’s father had gone to the liquor store and never made it back. Bobby had taken them in after that, and so the boys had grown up right here in the House.

Dean decided that it was a pecan pie kind of day. At some point between greasing the pans and getting the oven to the correct temperature he heard Charlie come in, greeting everyone now in the shop and sticking her head in the doorway between the front of the café and the kitchen, “Hey Dean! Oooh, a pecan day huh? Make sure you actually get some up front, huh? Instead of eating it all, like last time. You literally ate an _entire_ pie, Dean.”

Dean tried his best to look affronted but thinking back to that day was a good experience. He’d been experimenting with adding things to his pies and had ended up making a caramel chocolate-chip pecan pie and had promptly eaten the entire thing. He settled with sticking his tongue out at her, which she giggled at before heading back to the front.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the morning was spent in much of the same way, with Dean and Charlie quipping back and forth and a steady influx of students and professors. Benny returned around noon, having been given the go-ahead by the doctor. Dean used this moment to take a little break, and he noticed Castiel, with his stupid sex hair, was still sitting in his booth.

“Hey, Cas, sorry about all that.”

Cas looked up at Dean and smiled. “Don’t worry, Dean, you have a business to run. There’s nothing you could have done about it. Although, I hate to tell you this, but I ate your biscuit while you were gone. They were both delicious, thank you.”

Dean felt a flush rising in his cheeks and stuttered, “O-oh, yeah, of course! Do you want more coffee? I could get it – so um, how’s the writing coming?”

Castiel smiled. “Rather well, I believe. One would think that being surrounded by chatty teenagers and their parents would make it hard to focus. Personally, I’m rather fond of all the noise.”

“So what kind of writing do you do, Cas? Are you some big-time journalist I’ve never heard of? I bet my nerd little brother’s heard of you.” Dean stood and refilled Cas’ coffee cup as well as his own.

“He might have, but he wouldn’t know it was me. I write under a pseudonym. And no, I’m not a journalist. I’m a poet.”

“O-oh? A poet? Like, romantic stuff like Byron or crazy shit like Ginsberg?” Dean felt himself getting excited and blushed. He was an avid fan of poetry, he even had a few lines of Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” tattooed onto his ribcage.

Castiel smiled at him warmly and Dean felt his cheeks get impossibly redder. “I think my favorite part about poetry is that it’s different for everyone, you know? So I try not to say that I’m a certain type of poet, because I want everyone who reads what I write to get their own meaning from it.”

Dean opened his mouth to speak but all that came out were strung-together monosyllables, and he was saved by Sam entering the House and walking up to their table. “Hey, jerk, shouldn’t you be working and not bothering people?” Sam stuck his hand out for Cas to shake while his older brother looked up at him indignantly. “Hi, I’m Sam Winchester, Dean’s younger brother.”

“Ah, nice to meet you, Sam. Castiel Novak.” Cas shook Sam’s hand. “Do you work here as well, Sam?”

“Sometimes. I co-own the House here with Dean but since I’ve started law school I can’t help out as much as I’d like to.” Sam said with a shrug, sneaking a glance down at the slice of pie Dean had brought with him to the table. “Eating pie again, Dean? You better be careful or we’ll have to order you a whole new set of shirts, just like we did after we hired Benny and all you ate for three months was gumbo, biscuits, and chili.”

“You know what, bitch, it’s not my fault that Benny’s food is fuckin’ great and all you eat is rabbit food.” Dean stood and cleared his food and Cas’ plates from earlier, subconsciously pulling his shirt down over his stomach. “Come on Sammy, let’s leave Cas here to his work. The night students’ll be comin’ in any minute now and you know how much they love those stupid latte things.” Dean turned and waved a hand at Cas as he retreated, before turning back and rubbing a hand over his face, willing his cheeks to stop burning.

Apparently his force of will could certainly be reckoned with because as soon as Dean walked into the kitchen, Benny stopped stirring the soup he was making and gave Dean a once-over. “Brother, are you okay? You’re lookin’ a lil’ flushed.”

Sam threw his head back and laughed as he tied his apron around his waist and Dean growled out, “Shut up, Benny,” before grabbing a carton of milk and a bottle of vanilla syrup and heading back to the front, his ears clearly red as well.

Later that night, after the dinner rush and the influx of students heading to the library to do schoolwork, Dean noticed that Cas’ table was empty. _He must have slipped out during the rush,_ Dean thought to himself. Making his way over to the booth, he noticed that once again, Cas had left a napkin with a note scribbled onto it: ‘Bicycles can’t stand on their own because they are two-tired – Castiel’

 

* * *

 

A few weeks later on a Sunday in early November, like every other Sunday, the House closed at four so that the crew of the House, plus Bobby and his friend Rufus, could get together for Sunday dinner at Bobby’s house just outside of town.

“Alright, how’s my House doing, boys?” Bobby asked, handing a beer to Dean and Rufus as they sat down at the table.

“Doin’ real good, Bobby. We were busy as usual for Parents Weekend, and sales seem to be up.” Dean said, passing the mashed potatoes to Charlie, who sat next to him.

“Hits on the website are up too. More and more orders being made online, and Dean’s managed to not eat an entire pie by himself in over three months.” Charlie passes the potatoes to Rufus before adding, “Oh! And Dean-o here has a crush on one of the new regulars.”

Dean choked on the bite of pork chop he’d just taken and felt his face flushing. “W-what? Charlie what the hell are you talking –?” He stopped short because everyone at the table was staring at him.

“Come on now boy, just tell us about him. Or her, whichever.” Bobby gestured. Bobby, having raised both Dean and Sam, knew the two of them inside and out. And spluttering and flustered was all Dean when it came to romance.

Sam, Charlie and Benny all snickered as the older Winchester glared them down. “He’s, uh, he’s a writer. Name’s Castiel Novak.” He could feel the blush rising on his face. “He comes into the House almost every day and gets some coffee while he sits and works on whatever it is he’s doing – I think he’s working on a book.” Dean neglected to mention that although he loved having Cas sitting in the shop so Dean could unabashedly stare at the gorgeous man under the guise of checking to make sure everyone was doing okay, his new favorite part of the day had become when he’d venture over to Cas’ table and find a new pun written on a napkin. Every time he found one, he folded it up and stuffed in his back pocket, unaware he was smiling so hard his cheeks would hurt later.

No, he left all of that out. Dean was stuck in his own little world, thinking about Castiel and his weird little articulations (a writer’s thing, Dean’s sure), those perfect blue eyes, the sex hair that sticks out every which way –

“Dean!”

“Huh?” Dean looked over at Rufus and noticed that everyone was staring at him. “Boy, get your head on straight for five seconds, would ya?” Rufus huffed and the attention of the table went back to him, “I was saying, are you gonna invite him to Thanksgiving?”

“Oh, I dunno, Rufus. I’m sure he’s got family or some girlfriend he hasn’t mentioned.” Dean shrugged, trying to ignore the happy feeling twisting in his gut at the idea of spending a whole, uninterrupted day with not only his family but with Cas.

“Well how about you ask him anyway. Ain’t no harm in making sure he’s got a place to go for the holiday.” Bobby suggested. “Alright, enough of this feelings crap, let’s eat, huh?” Everyone nodded their agreement and the meal was quiet, broken only by the sounds of chewing and the occasional remark about school and work.

 

* * *

 

It was around this time of year that a) they brought pumpkin flavoring back to the House, and b) students came in excitedly talking about home and Thanksgiving. It made for a nice atmosphere in the House, with students and professors alike seeming happier.

It was also the time of year that Sam and Dean posted the Thanksgiving sign-up. A long-standing House tradition that Bobby had started, each year they posted a sign-up for those students who were either unable to go home for the holiday or simply didn’t want to. Neither the boys nor Bobby had any family they were in contact with or knew of, so it was also a good way for them to fill their home with people and gave Dean (and later Benny) an excuse to cook a mega-ton of food.

Just like every year, a good amount of kids (and some of the older professors) had signed up within a week of the posting. Castiel noticed it one day as he was ordering his coffee and asked Dean about it.

“Oh, Bobby started doing it years ago so that it wouldn’t just be us three – me, Sammy and Bobby that is – plus one of the professors he knows up on campus had told him about there always being a good amount of kids who don’t go home, so he figured why not invite them? We consider everyone family anyway.” Dean shrugged and gave the girl standing at the counter her change before writing her name on a to-go cup and handing it to Charlie. “Hey Cas, that reminds me, you have plans for Thanksgiving? ‘Cause you’re more than welcome to um, join us.”

Castiel looked up at him from where he stood by the coffee pots. “Oh, thank you for your kind offer, Dean, and while I’m sure your holiday will be quite the event, I’ll be attending my family’s dinner over in Topeka. I’m sorry.”

Dean waved a hand at him in what he hoped was a casual way, trying to hide his disappointment. “Nah, man, don’t worry about it. Family’s important, right?” Cas nodded before making his way over to his favorite booth and pulling out his computer.

The bell above the door jingled then, announcing the entrance of none other than Gabriel. “Hey, Dean-o! Where’s the hotter Winchester?”

Dean grimaced and shuddered. “He’s in class you giant-ass pervert. What do you want?”  
Ever the dramatic, Gabriel clutched his chest and heaved a fake sob. “Dean Winchester I am _wounded_.” Snickering, he continued, “Hot chocolate would be great. You make the best around.” Looking around he added, “I’m supposed to be meeting my brother here…”

Dean nodded, stirring the powdered mix of dark and milk chocolate shavings into the steamed milk. “That’s right! I totally forgot your brother was coming to stay with you. You’re gonna introduce us, right?”

Gabe snorted. “Not necessary. I’m sure you know him by now, he’s here like every day.”

Dean crinkled his brows at this as he handed Gabe his steaming mug topped with marshmallows and sprinkles. He tried to think of men he’d seen in the House recently who looked anything like Gabriel but came up short. He was about to say something when Gabriel shouted, “Cassie! There you are, baby bro.”

Gabriel was walking toward Castiel’s table and Dean was nothing short of reeling. There was no way that quiet, poet Cas was loud, perverted Gabriel’s brother. Their last names weren’t even the same and Castiel didn’t even _look_ like Gabe.

“Hello, Gabriel. I still do not understand why you insist on calling me your ‘baby’ brother considering you are only a year older than I.” Cas deadpanned.

“Dean, I take it you know my baby brother Cassie, then.” Dean nodded and made his way over to the booth.

“Cas, _you’re_ Gabe’s brother?” Dean asked incredulously. “But you said your last name is Novak, and Gabe yours is what, Milton, right?”

Cas nodded and his cheeks flushed a little. “Gabriel and I, actually none of my brothers and sisters share my father.” When Dean looked confused and a little horrified, Castiel clarified, “Our mother had an affair. I’m the only one in our family who was not fathered by Nathaniel Milton.”

Dean just shook his head. “Well alright, then. I gotta get back to work. Can I put an order in for you guys?”

They ordered and Samandriel brought them their food a little while later. Dean sat down in the office way in the back of the House, poring over the list of people signed up to come to Thanksgiving dinner. Right now it was about 15 people, which came up to 21 when he added the regulars – himself, Sammy, Bobby, Rufus, Benny and Charlie – and he needed to get a grocery list going. He made a note to talk about the menu with Benny later and turned to his laptop, next to which laid a pile of napkins. Napkins that, to anyone else, would’ve been garbage.

But Dean, ever the romantic, knew what they were. It was all the napkins Cas had left for him. Over the last month or so, Castiel had left a napkin with a silly pun written on it. Dean though it was funny that he kept leaving them, because Cas had no way of knowing that Dean would be the one who found them, and the two of them had never talked about it. Cas obviously knew that Dean liked puns – all of the café’s shirts had puns emblazoned on the front with each employees name across the back.

While Dean was sure it didn’t mean anything to Cas and that Cas probably just wanted whoever found the napkin to smile, they meant a lot to Dean.

Which was a problem.

It was a problem because despite everything Dean said, he really did _like_ Cas. And of course, he knew that to Cas he was just the owner of the greatest café in Lawrence. As a probably-famous poet, Dean knew that Cas had someone out there. Whether he or she had stayed behind in London and was simply waiting for Cas to be done with his stint here in Lawrence – after all, Gabriel had said that his brother was only coming to stay for a while – but Dean didn’t want to think about that.

Not at all.

Dean sighed and packed up his laptop and his notes and decided to call it an early night. Charlie was off tonight, maybe they could get together and watch Star Wars or Harry Potter or really _anything_ to get his mind off of how unavailable Cas was. She replied to Dean’s text nearly immediately and agreed to come over and to bring The Lord of the Rings with her. Dean replied, thanking her and promising food.

 

* * *

 

“So, Dean,” Charlie started as she unloaded her things onto his kitchen counter, “you wanna tell me what this is about? Cause, I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m always game for movie marathons and your delicious cooking, but I kinda get the feeling you’re a little off?”

“Charlie, I love you like the sister I never had, but the reason I invited you here was so I _wouldn’t_ have to talk about it. Do you want pizza or not?”

She pursed her lips at him, “Fine. But we _are_ going to talk about this. It’ll just be after pizza.”

They were halfway through both _The Two Towers_ and a twelve pack of beer when Dean, inhibitions annihilated by having alcohol in his system, spoke up. “I _really_ like C-Cas, Charlie.”

Charlie looked over at her best friend, confused. “So what? Do something about it. Worst thing he can do is say no, right?”

“That’s literally the worst advice Charlie, because him saying no is exactly what I’m worried about. He’s a published author, I’m just a small-town – “

“You’re just the owner of the single-most successful coffee house in Lawrence, Kansas. Dean, you managed to put the on-campus Starbucks _out of business._ Do you understand how crazy that is? You graduated near the top of your class, with some of the highest grades of those in your major! Dean, you’re successful too, and smart and caring and dammit Dean Winchester you’re going to ask him out tomorrow. You. Will. Do. It.”

 

* * *

 

Dean Winchester was many things, but a coward was not one of them.

Which is why he wasn’t being a coward by totally avoiding the front of the House and worked in his office all day.

He definitely wasn’t avoiding Castiel. Nope. Not a chance. He definitely wasn’t doing that. Just like when he did leave the office to get himself a cup of coffee, he pointedly avoided looking anywhere near what he had come to know as Cas’ booth. Taking his mug and a brownie back to his office with him, Dean sat down and laid his head on his desk. “You’re being pathetic, Winchester. You are a ladies man.” But Castiel was definitely _not_ a lady, and while Dean had no qualms about his attraction to men, his “relationships” with men had never surpassed a one-night stand and they’d always been out of town, so that Dean was sure they’d _stay_ one night stands. Everything about Castiel was _new_ and such uncharted territory Dean was never sure of what he was doing.

Dean was brought out of his thoughts by Sam tapping on the window. “Hey man, what’re you doing back here? You’re usually sitting out front with Cas shooting the breeze instead of actually working. Aw, did you two have a lovers’ spat?” Sam grinned when Dean punched him in the arm.

“You know what, Sammy, you can just shut the hell up. Cas is busy working, and I shouldn’t be bothering him when I have my own stuff to do.”

Sam groaned and stood up from the seat he’d taken on the side of Dean’s desk, pulling something out of his back pocket and handing it to his brother. “Cas asked me to give this to you, jerk.”

Dean watched Sam’s retreating form and called, “Don’t tell Charlie I was back here, bitch!” He looked down at the napkin in his hands, and upon reading it he felt his face positively _burning_.

‘I missed your company today – Castiel’

“Okay, Winchester, get yourself together. Just because he asked Sammy to give this to you doesn’t _mean_ anything. He enjoys my company, hell yeah he does because we’re _friends,_ friends miss each other when they aren’t together. Cas and I are _just friends._ ”

If only Dean could ignore the soreness twisting in his chest because _he_ had missed Cas today too. But for Dean it didn’t have anything to do with being just friends, and had everything to do with how he wanted to be more.

 

* * *

 

The weeks leading up to Thanksgiving were uninteresting and uneventful. Dean, not wanting to create suspicion or unnecessary rumors ( _God_ Sam and Charlie were gossips), had gone back to spending his time in the House mostly up front unless there were pressing matters he could only take care of in his office. Mostly he didn’t want Castiel think that he was angry with him by avoiding him.

Dean had spent the night before Thanksgiving baking pies and cookies and cakes and numerous other treats while Benny and Bobby had prepped and chopped vegetables of nearly every kind and gutted all four turkeys and set two of them to marinade.

When cooking for nearly forty people, preparation was _key_. The three of them, now including Sam and Charlie, were up earlier that morning with two pots of coffee and bagels, eager to get cooking but unexcited to be up at _four in the fucking morning, Dean, really?_ Rufus joined the party around nine, just in time to put the parade on the TV in the House’s kitchen and help Benny get the oil and the marinated turkeys ready to be friend downstairs on the patio. He’d brought the supply of alcohol and sodas along with him and it was his job to make sure none of the underage students who were coming got hold of any liquor.

They were holding Thanksgiving dinner at the House simply because there wouldn’t be enough room anywhere else, and the House’s kitchen was big and they could cook everything just about at once. Dean and Sam had told everyone to arrive sometime near noon so everyone could get acquainted and they planned on eating sometime around 1:30. People began trickling in at about quarter to 12, bundled in scarves and coats to fend off the low temperature and wind. The whole of them sat down in the back of the House where Bobby’s long, cafeteria-style tables were pushed together so that they could eat “As a family,” in Bobby’s words.

Bobby led grace and after he sat they went around and introduced themselves to each other, each saying what they were thankful for. This year there were a good number of new faces, young kids scared of being away from home for the first time and they all claimed to be thankful to have found out about the House, their new home away from home, as well as plenty of old faces, including Dean’s former accounting professor Dr. Crowley, who had no family except for an estranged son and for some _strange_ reason had taken a shining to Dean.

At around 4, when people were hanging out and waiting for Dean to serve dessert, they heard a yelling from the front of the café. “Helloooo? Anyone here?”

Dean shot a glance and Sam, who shrugged, and ran up to the front where he saw Castiel and Gabriel standing with two other men and women whom Dean didn’t know. “Uh, hi guys.”

“Hello Dean. I know that both Gabriel and I told you we would be unable to make it to your dinner, but due to outstanding circumstances –“

Gabriel sighed. “What Cassie means to say, Dean-o, is that we went to Topeka and our parents got into such a big fight that they forgot about the food and it all burned and they decided they just weren’t going to eat. So we were hoping you wouldn’t mind us crashing dinner. Although you guys ate a while ago, huh?”

Dean shook his head. “No, no, of course! Come on back guys, we’ve got a metric fuckton of leftovers, there’s still plenty of food. You can leave your coats and stuff in a booth, none of the kids will take anything, I swear.” He stuck his hand out to the men and women, “Uh, I’m Dean, Dean Winchester.”

The taller man, tan with cropped dark hair introduced himself as Michael, the slightly less tall blond man was Lucifer, the woman with auburn hair was Anna and the much, much shorter woman was Hester. “Nice to meet you all. Now come on with me and we’ll fix you up some plates.”

They followed him back to where everyone was sitting and introduced them all before taking them back to the kitchen where the leftover food had been taken. Michael and Lucifer slid up to Dean at some point while they were reheating food, and Michael said, “You know, Dean, Castiel and Gabriel speak very highly of you and this establishment. You and your brother own it, correct?”

Dean nodded. “Yes, we do, but I take care of most of the actual owner responsibilities and Sammy just helps with making drinks and whatnot since he’s just started law school.” His chest puffed with pride. Nothing made him happier than to talk about how Sam was enrolled in law school.

“Law school, hmm? Michael and I run a practice over in Topeka. Make sure you give him a card, Mikey. I’m sure, with a successful businessman as his brother, he’ll make quite the lawyer, eh, Dean?” Lucifer smirked at Dean and took a seat beside Castiel at one of the tables. Dean stared after him and turned to Michael, eyebrows raised in question. Michael only answered with a shrug as Dean handed him a plate.

Towards the end of the night, when nearly all the students had all returned to their dorms and professors to their homes, the only ones left were the Miltons, sans Gabriel and including Castiel, the crew of the House, and some girl speaking animatedly to Sam. Bobby had driven Rufus home about an hour ago. Michael stood and gestured to Lucifer and his sisters that they should probably leave, as it was late and they had driven together and Michael and Lucifer both had work early the next morning. They thanked Dean and Sam both for their hospitality.

“Well, if you’re gonna stick around for a little while Cas, we could sure use some help with what’s left of the dishes.” Dean said, standing, stretching and rubbing his slightly swollen stomach. Castiel nodded and stood as well, leading the way back to the kitchen. Charlie and Benny gave Dean big thumbs up with no indication of getting up to help, and Sam was busy talking to the girl, Jessica, one of their regulars.

Son of a bitch.

Dean followed Castiel into the kitchen and pulled his sleeves up. “So, Cas,” he started, grabbing a towel to dry what his companion had washed, “we always talk about your work and the House and all, but not a whole lot about each other. You, um, you got a girlfriend Cas? Someone waitin’ for you back in London?”

Cas shook his head. “No one waiting for me, unless Balthazar has suddenly changed his mind, which I find highly unlikely. As far as girlfriends, I’m gay, so that would be a no as well.”

Dean fought the urge to pump his fist into the air in triumph and settled for doing it internally. “So, um, no one’s caught your eye then? Besides myself, the only ones who ever sit with you are Gabe or Sammy.”

Castiel raised an eye at him and Dean _swore_ his cheeks were a little pink. “Well, there’s this one guy, I suppose. He’s really rather clever, and very kind, and incredibly handsome.”

“That’s…um, nice, Cas. I’m happy for you. I hope it works out for you.” Dean tried to hide his disappointment in his tone and avoided looking at Cas.

“Yes. I do as well.” Cas sighed. They continued on in uncomfortable silence, with Dean feeling somewhat like a kicked puppy and Castiel as quiet as ever.

When they finished, Dean offered to walk Castiel home since Gabriel had left with one of the professors, throwing an exaggerated wink over his shoulder.

“It is up to you, Dean. I often walk to and from the House by myself, but I will not object should you choose to join me.”

“Well, gee, Cas, twist my arm why don’t ya.”

“I don’t understand, Dean, I didn’t –“

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nevermind, Cas. You want some tea or somethin’ to take with? It’s colder than an eskimo’s ass out there.”

Cas squinted at Dean, who could feel the tips of his ears redden under the scrutiny, and nodded. “A cup of chamomile tea would be nice. Thank you, Dean.”

As they set out on their way, Gabe’s house being a few blocks away in the newer part of town. “Thank you, again, Dean.”

“Walking you home isn’t a big deal, Cas. Don’t worry about it.”  
Cas shook his head and took a sip from his to-go cup. “No, no. I meant for allowing my siblings and I to join you for Thanksgiving. It was really very kind of you to welcome strangers into your tradition.”

Dean laughed. “Cas they aren’t strangers! They’re you and Gabe’s family. That’s all I need. Besides, we welcome strangers to the tradition every year when the freshmen and transfers decide to join us. It’s one of the rules I have for the House – anyone and everyone is always welcome.”

Cas smiled and looked up at Dean warmly. “You are truly a very generous person, Dean Winchester. What are the other rules?”

“Number one is that any and all opportunities to make a pun will be taken, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Number two is the rule about the kids getting free tea and coffee with their ID, as long as it isn’t one of those fancy-ass lattes or whatever. Number three is the one I just told you. And unofficially, the fourth rule is that I’m the only one allowed to pick the music played in the House. And I mean, ya know, number three was always kind of _understood_ , but I made it a personal one when I took over. I want people to come in and feel safe and _at home._ ”

Cas nodded beside him. “Yes. I understand that. Similar to in poetry, I feel. I mean, like I told you once how I don’t like to answer questions as to what my poems are about, because I want everyone to feel like it can be theirs.”

“Say, Cas that reminds me. Are you ever gonna tell me your pen name? I wanna know if I’ve read any of your stuff.” Dean asked, sipping from his own cup and turning to look at Cas, whose cheeks were adorably pink from the cold, turned to him, squinting and tilting his head in that way of his. “Maybe.” They reached Gabriel’s porch and paused. “Well, goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, Cas – oh.” Cas had reached his arms out and embraced Dean, and while Dean had most definitely not expected it, it was _definitely_ welcomed and returned. They released each other and Cas smiled and waved at Dean before going inside.

Which left Dean dumbstruck on Gabriel’s porch, with a redness to his cheeks that had certainly not been caused by the cold.

It began to snow as he trekked back to the House.

 

* * *

The end of November came and went. After Thanksgiving, the patrons were welcome to take what they wanted of the leftover treats from the House’s feast, a tradition repeated after Christmas. Dean never worried about losing sales, generally because the leftover sweets were gone within a day or two. Students were beginning to freak out about finals, and Cas continued to leave Dean notes on his napkins to be found and read later. With the exception of the one Sam had given him, they all had puns written on them, which was Dean’s favorite characteristic about them, other than that Cas had written them. He smiled every time he thought about them and immediately would make his way to the front of the café to offer Castiel a refill on his coffee.

This usually led to a smartass comment from Benny or Sam, or even sometimes a student who was bold enough. Dean was getting progressively better at hiding the way his cheeks would get red.

“So what do you want for Christmas, Cas?” Dean asked him one morning as he handed him his mug.

Castiel shrugged from where he stood by the coffee pots. “I suppose…actually, Dean, I would really enjoy a shirt like yours. Or rather, like the ones the employees wear. I’m rather fond of them.”

“You got it, Cas.” Dean had the perfect one in mind.

“And you? What would you like for Christmas, Dean?”

Dean thought for a moment. He knew exactly what he wanted but he couldn’t possibly ask that of Cas, so he settled for saying, “I really just wanna know the pen name, man.”

Cas smiled knowingly at him from his booth. “I could get you an advanced copy of my newest book, if you’d like, Dean. It won’t be out until next year but they always give me a copy or two early.”

“Yeah, man, that sounds awesome.” Dean headed back to his office to take care of some pressing paperwork – definitely not to order Cas’ present, pshh, no – and when he emerged a few hours later, Cas had gone and on his table was his usual napkin. Refilling his mug with coffee, he slid himself into the booth – they weren’t really busy so Alfie could totally handle it – and picked the napkin up.

‘Crust me on this, you should let me take you out to dinner – Castiel’ And his god damn phone number.

This had to be a joke.

There is no way in hell that intelligent, well-spoken and altogether perfect Castiel Novak wanted to be with _him._

How could Castiel want to be with someone so flawed, someone whose own father wanted nothing to do with him, someone who tried too hard and fell too quick.

This had to be a _joke._

He resigned to call the number – probably a pun hotline or something stupid because Dean refused to believe Cas is serious – later, once he’s calmed down about the whole thing and his entire being has ceased to be redder than an entire patch of tomatoes.

Dean wholes himself up in his office and whenever someone comes looking for him he just holds up the napkin and refuses to say much of anything.

“But Dean, isn’t this what you wanted?” From Charlie, “Brother, that’s great! When’s the wedding?” from Benny, and “You don’t think he’s serious, do you?” from Sam.

Sam’s tone showed that he understood what Dean’s mind was doing. He’d seen it happen before with Lisa Braeden, a single mom who used to bring her son Ben in after soccer practice before asking Dean if he wanted to come over for dinner one night. Dean had blushed and spluttered but politely declined, thinking she was kidding.

Lisa and Ben moved away not long after that and Dean had been _crushed_.

So Sam understood that Dean was doing the same thing now, psyching himself out because he didn’t think he was worth it. “Dammit Dean, call Cas. Call him right now. He isn’t kidding. Just because you don’t see what an incredible guy you are doesn’t mean nobody else does! Cas would have to be blind, deaf and dumb to not see how great you are! Come on, Dean! I’m not leaving until you dial the phone.”

Dean looked up at his baby brother indignantly as he fished his phone from his pocket. Tapping the number out and pressing call, he released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

 _“Hello?”_ A voice, undoubtedly Cas, said from the other line.

“H-Hey, Cas. It’s Dean.”

_“You got my note, I see.”_

“Ye-yeah, I did, man. Are you, I mean, do you really want…Cas I just-”

_“If you’re about to ask if I would really like to take you out to dinner, I would. Dean, I’ve told you before how I felt about you and you brushed me off. I believe you thought I was speaking about another man. I was not.”_

Dean racks his brain before swearing. “Shit, Thanksgiving, right? When I was being an obvious idiot and asked you about having a girlfriend?”

Cas laughed from the other end and Dean fucking melted. _“Yes, Dean, that would be the time. So it’s a yes, correct? I’d really love to take you out, Dean. You work very hard.”_

“Yeah, Cas, it-it’s a yes. I’d love to go to dinner with you.” Sam let out a whoop and ran into the kitchen screaming, “ **Finally!** They’re finally going on a date! Everyone owes me ten bucks, where’s the fucking list…”

_“Was that Sam?”_

“Yeah, he uh, seems to be very happy we’re going out.” Dean chuckled nervously, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

 _“He’s not the only one, I assure you.”_ Cas said from the other end and Dean knew he was smiling. _“So when would be good for you? I know Sunday is family dinner night, so how about-”_

“You busy tonight Cas?” Dean blurted, blushing at himself. “I just, I’ve wanted to do this for a while now, and Sam can take care of the House, so why not, yeah?” He hoped he didn’t sound as nervous as he thought he did.

_“Absolutely. I’ll drop by the House at…does seven sound all right?”_

“Seven sounds great, Cas.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue(I guess?)  
> I just wanted to write these two idiots spending Christmas together with their cute lil' family

Thanks to the “joining of their families” as Gabriel put it, Gabriel and Sam had both _insisted_ that Gabriel and Castiel joined the family celebration when Christmas finally rolled around. The little shits, as Dean was currently calling them, had roped Bobby and Rufus in as well. Benny had been the one to suggest it.

Not that Dean really minded having his boyfriend around for Christmas, really it was the opposite, he just wished they’d stop making such a big deal about it.

They were currently sitting together near the tree in Sam and Dean’s apartment, Castiel laying with his head in Dean’s lap as Dean opened his presents. Sam had given him a signed AC/DC poster that Dean had been positively _drooling_ over since he found out the record store down the street had gained possession of it.

“You little shit, I was wondering what had happened to this thing! How the hell did you afford this? They wouldn’t even give me a price!”

Sam laughed, throwing his head back. “You’d be surprised how many people bet on when you and Cas would get together. I made quite a bit of cash in that deal, man.” Sam clapped him on the shoulder, “Merry Christmas, jerk.”

“Merry Christmas, bitch.” Next was Benny’s present, a small yet thick poorly wrapped rectangle which, upon being opened, was actually a planner wrapped in a messenger bag. “With as much shit as you got goin’ on, brother, I figured you could use these.”

From Charlie, the extended versions of both of the released Hobbit movies, and tickets to see the third when it came out. “How do you even _get_ these, Charlie?” She just smiled and waggled her eyebrows. “Girl’s gotta have _some_ secrets, Deanie!” Gabriel gave him a small tin box with the Starbucks logo on top, which Dean sneered at before opening it to reveal a gift card to Free State Brewery, Dean’s favorite restaurant and the place he and Cas had had their first date.

Bobby handed Dean an envelope saying, “This is from me and Rufus.” Opening it up, Dean’s face lit up. “Super Bowl tickets? Holy _shit_ you guys, thanks so much! I can’t believe it’s gonna be in Kansas City this year!”

Last was his present from Cas, who had gotten up off of Dean’s lap to hand him his gift. “Merry Christmas, Dean.” He said, planting a kiss on Dean’s forehead. Dean tore through the wrapping paper, excited to _finally_ know his boyfriend’s pen name.

“Carver Edlund. Cas. You’re _the_ Carver Edlund?! Baby, I’ve been thinking about getting some of his – er, your – lines put onto my other side! I can’t believe this,” He gushed, throwing the book onto the floor and pulling Cas into a tight hug. “Thank you, baby.”

Cas blushed and shrugged. “Of course, Dean.”

“Okay, your turn Cas. Open up your presents.” They settled down so that Cas sat between Dean’s legs and Dean rested his head on Cas’ shoulder.

Sam had gotten him a set of moleskin notebooks, Charlie the complete collection of WB Yeats’ work, Benny a quill and ink set – “So you can be like those fancy-ass poets from back in the day, Cas” – Gabriel, who knew Cas the best, had gotten him a first edition collection of prints of Cain Novak's paintings ("My father," Castiel explained) and gift cards from Rufus and Bobby who didn’t know Cas as well but had insisted on getting him something. Cas thanked them all and set his things beside him.

When the time came, Dean picked his present from under the tree and handed it to Cas, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

Cas pecked at Dean’s cheek in return and turned back to open the gift. Opening the white clothing box, he pulled out a hoodie, dark grey with blue sleeves. On the front, in red lettering, it read “I”, then a picture of a loaf of bread, and then “You”.

Cas pulled himself away and looked at Dean. “My shirt. From the House.”

“Yeah, baby. You like it?” Dean felt himself blush, especially at the way Sam and Benny were trying to hold back their laughter.

“Oh, Dean,” Cas said, standing and pulling the hoodie on over his sweater, “I _loaf_ it.”

Everyone else groaned.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you guys liked it! I'm putting together a visual/other thoughts post to be a go-along with this which should be up soon!  
> It'll have pictures of some of Dean's shirts and designs for the cafe as well as little stories behind certain things/thoughts I had that didn't fit into the scheme of the story:)  
> Constructive criticism would be awesome, cause I've never written SPN before:)  
> Feel free to check me out over at indreamsittouchesthebody on tumblr


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